


Different For Girls

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Banter, Coming Out, Female Gaze, Friendship, Gen, LGBTQ Female Character, Male Gaze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona enjoys looking at women just as much as Sam does; which is why he's worried her bisexuality might endanger her relationship with Michael...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different For Girls

**Author's Note:**

> written for queer_fest 2012: prompt: Burn Notice, Fiona, she enjoys the Miami eye candy every bit as much as Sam does.

Sam Axe watched with undisguised glee as the bikini-clad blonde peeled her way up Los Adventurus Avenue. His eyes traced the curve of her soft breast and licked like fire along the edge of her hip, enjoying the bounce of her breasts and the curve of her waist. As she drew nearer the patio and noticed his, he received the roll of an eye and a flip of her middle finger.

“It’s a compliment, sweetheart!” he catcalled after her, only to receive a glare. “Boy, I’m telling ya, Fi – I don’t know what it is about these girls. You think they’d cut a veteran some slack….” When he turned his head to ask Fiona why she’d gone so quiet, he found her looking with her own undisguised zeal at a passing brunette. 

“Uh…hellllo? Earth to Fiona!”

“Hmmm?” she caressed the word lightly. “Oh. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Fiona asked him, stirring her bloody mary with a stalk of celery. 

“Yeah,” Sam grinned licentiously, and she rolled her eyes. “But I noticed you were kind of distracted. It made me wonder what was jigging around in your little Irish head.”

“I was just appreciating the view, Sam,” she smirked. “Don’t you do the same to every woman that walks by?”

He put down his beer, frowning at her. “Aww, c’mon Fi – it’s natural for a guy to take a good, long look at a chick. It’s…”

“Well?”

“Biology! The roar of the genes!” Sam gestured with the lip of his beer bottle at their surroundings. 

She watched him with that unnaturally even, steady look of hers. “And it’s unnatural for me to appreciate women the same way?” 

Sam gave her a dirty smirk. “I didn’t say that.”

She made an exclamation of total disgust before shoving at Sam’s shoulder. “My appreciation of her has nothing to do with inciting your disgusting needs, Sam.”

He grimaced. “My needs and your needs are never gonna meet.”

“Exactly,” Fiona declared. “Now, why did you want to speak to me?”

“Well, see, it’s this thing…” Sam explained. Soon enough he was gesturing as he told her about rescuing a single mother who’d gotten in over her head at her waitressing job. Fiona pretended to listen for a moment, tapping her nails on the countertop as he finished off his explanation. “So I need someone to get closer to the situation, find out if the manager’s swiping cash from the til.” He sipped his morning screwdriver, then added, “and since I look rotten in a skirt, I thought you could take a swing at it.” 

“Oh Sam,” she deadpanned, sipping another mouthful of Bloody Mary down. “I didn’t know you noticed my legs.”

“Hey,” he smirked. “I’m visuals guy. But you just learned that a few minutes ago.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take fifty percent of your cut,” she said. “No wait – sixty. You ought to pay me more to support my research. I’m not sure I’ll be convincing; I haven’t waited tables since I was twelve.”

He gave her a sour glare. “You’re something else,” he complained. But on a napkin, he drew up a quick chart that assigned her the lion’s share of what they made. “I’m glad Elsa’s keeping me in diamonds these days,” he frowned, slurping his beer.

Fiona simply preened at him in response while slugging down her bloody mary.

*** 

“We have to talk again.”

Sam was wiping down his sweaty face as Fiona climbed into the passenger-side seat of his rented Beamer. “Whatever happened in there wasn’t my fault. You didn’t say the code word…”

She held up her right hand – it was coated from fingertip to wrist in diamond-encrusted baubles. “Oh, that. I simply didn’t need your help,” she said.

Sam laughed while flooring the car out of the concrete parking structure and heading up the exit ramp back to Miami. “Good work. Now we’ll have a bug on Drostoski the next time he tries to sell a pretty girl for cocaine.”

Fiona snarled. “The sooner we get that bastard behind bars, the better.”

Silence passed between them. Finally Sam said, “what did you want to talk about?”

“I thought,” she said, “I’d bring a bit of honesty to our partnership.”

Sam winced. “I’m sorry, Fi – you’re a pretty girl, but you ain’t my type…”

Her glare zeroed in on his mug like a high-powered laser. “Sam! I wanted to talk about this morning.”

His shoulders slumped in total relief. “Next time be more specific. Look, I don’t….”

“Sam, I’m bisexual.”

The word rang around the inside of the car’s cab, and for a second neither of them said or did anything. Sam’s response was the judgmental one she’d assumed he’d deliver, yet not quite overloaded with presumptuous prejudice.

“Are you seeing a girl now?”

She glared at him. “So you think ‘bisexual’ equals ‘slutty’?” she shook her head. “Why would you ask me such a thing? Are you jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

She shook her head. “No, not now.”

“Before?”

“Yes.”

They both stared stubbornly into the glare reflecting off of the car’s windshield. “Does Mike know you’re cheated on him?”

She glared right back at him, her expression totally defiant at the very suggestion she might not be loyal to Michael. “He understands that my interests aren’t always linear. But no – I haven’t slept with anyone else when we’re involved. ”

“It turns him on, doesn’t it?” he raised an eyebrow. “Hah! And I always thought he was a stuffed shirt!” She struck him in the shoulder. “OW, Fi.”

“Whatever’s the matter, Sam? Does your own hypocrisy hurt that much?”

He frowned at her. “C’mon, level with me.”

 

“Why,” she asked him, doe-eyed, “we’ve never done sincere. Ever.”

Her Irish was up – and that meant that Sam was in trouble – but he plunged on regardless of his safety. “Why women?”

“Do you ask yourself that?” She wondered aloud. “Why women, why not men?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s just what I feel.”

“Well, then,” Fiona said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Sam huffed a sigh. “So you’re really not cheating on him?”

“No.”

“All right then.” Silence. He ground his teeth together for a second before continuing, “So?”

Fiona shrugged. “It’s not just physically. There’s something gorgeous about a woman – the way she owns the space around her, the way she moves, the way she smiles. Men have a roughness that appeals to me, but a woman – ah, a woman provides a softer side.” 

“And that’s why you like looking at them?”

“Yep.”

He shrugged, laughing. “Hell, just should’ve told me you like tits,” he said, and turned the car back toward Maddie’s house.


End file.
